Hidden Beneath
by xfmoon
Summary: Jane disappears and evidence of a crime appears.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers: **Small spoilers for The Crimson Hat & The Red Barn.

**Disclaimer: ** No matter who I kill I'll never be the owner of The Mentalist.

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He had disappeared without a trace. It had been almost a week. His motel room had been cleaned for the few personal belongings he owned, his hideout at the CBI loft looked as it had before he had inhabited it, and his house was as empty as always. They all feared the worst.

**xXx**

Two weeks after Jane's disappearance, almost to the dot of when she'd last spoken to him, Lisbon's phone rang. They'd put out a bolo on both him and his car, hoping for something, anything really that would pop, 'cause they didn't have much of anything else to go on. And when Lisbon had finished her phone call she was able to inform the team that it had been fruitful.

The state police had stopped a man driving Jane's car. He had no explanation as to how he had come into possession of said vehicle, so obviously he had to have stolen it. Mystery solved, at least regarding the car, Jane was still missing. Now the kicker was that when the police had come across the suspicious looking man, who had turned out to be a thief, they'd arrested him and when they searched the car they'd found a badly beaten and bloody body of a man in the trunk. Lisbon's hands had been shaking when she hung up the phone. They'd told her that they hadn't been able to identify the body yet. In reality, it could have been anybody, but it was of course most likely the owner of the car, which would explain the no contact as of late. Before she hung up she told the chief they'd be right there. Then she went into the bullpen and informed the team of the new development.

They knew when she entered something was awry, and her worried look - the one she'd worn for the last two weeks - was more prominent than ever. She gave them the details and they were out of there and on their way before she could say: 'Jane is very likely dead'.

**xXx**

The car had been absolutely silent as Lisbon drove them to the scene. She herself had been clenching the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had turned white. Thirty minutes later they arrived at a little side road to Interstate 5 where the man driving Jane's car had been arrested. The police had long since taken him away, but the chief and an officer was waiting for them at the familiar sky blue Citroën.

It was with their hearts in their throats that they looked at the body in the trunk. The police chief hadn't been lying when he'd said it was going to be hard to make a positive ID. It basically wasn't much more than a mess of skin, bones, and the occasional lock of hair all smeared with the crimson color of blood. Keeping it together after seeing all this stuffed into the trunk of Jane's car was hard for the whole team. It was all they could do to not throw up their lunches. Still they couldn't with any certainty say that this was in fact the remains of Jane. Some DNA testing was definitely required.

**xXx**

Lisbon fingered her cross unnoticed by anyone not looking. Jane had once called her out on that particular habit. And at this very moment she wished for him to be standing right there beside her, giving her one of his snarky remarks about something they were missing, something his laser sharp eyes had long since focused in on. So what was it? What was she missing?

**xXx**

Jane wouldn't leave his car, ever. For God's sake he'd even taken the hideous thing with him to Vegas when he had been gone for six months. If he was out there somewhere he would have reported it stolen the minute it had gone missing. And he wouldn't have lent it to someone, especially not someone like the common thief they had locked up. Besides the man claimed he'd just found it at the side of a road, abandoned, there'd been no one in sight, the keys were in the ignition and the tank was full, just ready to go, to take him wherever he wanted to go, and so he done just that. The police told Lisbon and her team how he'd reacted when they had found the body, total shock and surprise. So the man was very likely not the killer. He didn't look the type anyway, all thin and lanky, his clothes hanging on him like a teenager that had had a growth spurt overnight and could no longer fit in any of his clothes. He wasn't much older either, no more than 20, and he probably had a mild addiction to some kind of drug or another, given his body language and his overall behavior. Questioning him did no one any good. But one thing was for sure, he'd probably been cured of stealing any more cars for a while, or at least he'd have in mind to check the trunk before stealing a car and being busted for a crime he didn't commit. After all he couldn't be sure that someone would believe him the next time something like this happened.

**xXx**

It took forever for the tests to come back. The office had been buzzing with a nervous kind of giddiness, and not the good kind. The results however lifted their spirits, but it also gave them pause. If this wasn't Jane, who was it? And where was Jane? There had been no matches in the databases for the DNA. There had been no fingerprints to test, they'd all been burned off. In fact what the coroner found was quite disturbing. It was murder no doubt about that. Besides the obvious state of the body, it seemed that the unidentified man had been tortured a good long time before he'd actually died. There were different seized burn marks throughout his body, caused by everything from stun guns, lighters and matches to cow prods and flamethrowers. A few bullets were recovered. There was water found in his lungs, which suggested attempted drowning. But what had ultimate killed him, was all the long and methodically slashes he'd sustained. He'd slowly bled out, died in agony no doubt, from all the blood loss.

When Lisbon read that in the coroner's report, something hit her, and it hit her hard. Without knowing the man's identity - which they probably never would - she knew who it was. John Doe number 3121433999 who was currently lying on ice in the city morgue, until it's faith was decided, was no other than Red John. She was certain of it. More certain than anything she'd ever been certain of in her life. And as soon as that puzzle piece fell into place the rest followed. That's why Jane had disappeared. He hadn't been kidnapped, and he wasn't lying dead in some ditch somewhere. No, he had run away. He'd done what he'd always said he would do. He'd killed Red John, watched him bleed out slowly, seen the light fade from his eyes. The thought made her shudder. And then he'd run, just like that. He'd run away from his responsibility, from justice, from the team and from her. Coward!

Lisbon didn't share her suspicions with anyone. Not even her team. But she suspected they already had had similar thoughts, they weren't stupid after all. The case remained open and Jane remained gone. But life continued on.


	2. Chapter 2

On the day of the one year anniversary of Jane's disappearance Lisbon arrived at work, went into her office and saw that something wasn't as she'd left it. An unmarked envelop had in the course of the night appeared on her desk. In the past year she'd gotten used to things being normal again, no more schemes and tricks, no more surprises. She went over to her desk, put her briefcase down, scooped up the envelope and studied it. She didn't think anything more of it and so she found the crease with her index finger and tore it open. Peaked inside then turned it upside down and shook it a bit, with the result that a single sheet of white paper fell out and landed on her desk. At first glance it looked to be blank, but a closer examination revealed that there was something on the other side, the side facing the table. She lifted it up, turned it, looked at it, then released it and let it fall back down. Two lonely words were staring back at her. _"I'M SORRY"_. She didn't have to be a psychic to figure out who that was from. There was only ever one person that owned her an - by now long overdue and major - apology. _Patrick Jane_. If he thought those two words on a piece of paper was even nearly enough as a genuine apology, he didn't know her at all.

Even after one year it still hurt to think about him. Not only had he betrayed her, by going behind her back, not telling her what he was doing, or that he even had a promising or good lead on Red John and his whereabouts, he'd also betrayed her trust in him, he'd killed a man, and not only that he hadn't had the decency to stay and take responsibility for his actions, he'd fled like a criminal. Running and hiding was all he was ever good at. She hadn't been able to track him down, because he didn't want to be found. So she'd let it be, because it wasn't like he officially was a murder suspect. If he'd thought she would be looking for him, he'd have to think again. As much as her heart wanted her to - so she could make sure he was okay - her brain told her he wasn't worth it. In the end he'd conned her one time too many, and with fatal consequences at least for one person she knew of.

No, she wouldn't acknowledge the note, and she definitely wouldn't forgive him. Ever! He'd done what he'd set out to do, kill the man that killed his family, and she had merely been a tool, not unlike Red John's minions, she'd been a means to an end for him. Nothing more. And it hurt her to admit it. To admit to herself that she'd been wrong, that it wasn't light she'd seen in his eyes, to admit that she couldn't save him from the darkness inside of him. The darkness that she unknowingly had allowed to fester and take hold of him clouding any sound judgment he had left. She should have done something, done more. The thoughts made the anger she held in everyday well up and she fiercely snatched up the note and forcefully crumbled it into a small ball and then threw it into the trash.

Then she closed her eyes and took a calming breath. The man had the power to be irksome even in his absence, or maybe it was especially in his absence. She needed to move on, to move past this. She sat down and got started on the day's work. And by the end of the day the note and Jane was forgotten.

**xXx**

When the trash was emptied by the cleaning personnel at the early hours of the following morning, the note that originally only had contained two words was now a whole letter. It had been lying next to a used earl grey teabag most of the day and had for that reason received two things. First of all the white paper was now stained brownish yellow, but the residing warmth from the teabag had also magically made a whole bunch of meticulous letters appear. Letters that made up words, and words that made up sentences. Sentences of guilt, love, apologies, and promises. Sentences that fate would have it, never would be read by the person it was intended to.

For the briefest of moments however it seemed that luck might prevail. When the cleaning staff emptied the waste bin into his container it fell next to it. Unfortunately it didn't go unnoticed, and for the cleaner who picked it up it held no meaning, for him it was just another piece of paper in his daily routine that tried to make an evasive action, but to no end. Because he was a man that took pride in his job and always left a room spotless - he could have easily gotten a job as a crime scene cleanup guy. But this was the cards life had dealt him and he was satisfied doing it. Besides everything eventually returned to the place from where it came, both objects and people, and he saw himself as a mediator in that process. So a little piece of paper trying to assert itself by hoping to get overlooked didn't stand a chance. It was easily spotted by the man, picked up and thrown into a black hole from which it would never again see the light of day.

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**A/N:** You don't have to tell me, I already know, I suck at endings!

So I'm currently doing a rewatch of '24' and this little piece popped into my head, apparently it's an inspiring show. (there was a body in a trunk)

Oh and in case you didn't get it, except for the 'I'm sorry' part the rest of the letter was written with lemon juice, like the smiley on the napkin in 'The Red Barn'.


End file.
